


Full Moon

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gags, Handcuffs, M/M, Masturbation, Roleplay, Transformation, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-19
Updated: 2011-05-19
Packaged: 2017-10-19 14:19:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/201795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock plays out his transformation kink with John.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Full Moon

“I’m sorry, Sherlock.”

John’s whispering breath was warm against his ear, paired with a gentle, comforting hand running down his back.

Sherlock shivered as a cool breeze drifted through the window. He let John strip his clothes off with an unusual level of obedience; he felt he owed his lover some level of cooperation, given the nature of his request and how insistent he’d been about every detail.

“I wish I didn’t believe it but...” John gulped convincingly. It was a rather delightful surprise that he took on this role so well. “That beast that bit you... There’s no other explanation.”

“I never took you to be so superstitious,” Sherlock replied. “Regardless, having eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.” He looked up, worry sliding onto his face as he caught the first glimpse of the rising moon out of the corner of his eye. “John...”

“Hold still!” John grabbed the handcuffs and quickly clamped them on Sherlock’s wrists. “I’m sorry,” he repeated as he took a muzzle gag and fastened it over Sherlock’s head.

As soon as John stepped back, Sherlock’s gaze turned to the window again. The silvery, perfectly round moon was sliding up through the night sky, lingering over London menacingly. Falling to his knees was entirely scripted, but shuddering at the sight of it was not.

Sherlock tried to speak against the gag, but merely managed a muffled, desperate noise. He imagined changes creeping into his body, as he had done countless times before. Except this time he wasn’t alone and wanking off, but was being watched by his lover. Encouraged, even.

“Sherlock... Your hair...”

All too vividly, Sherlock could visualize his body hair warping into something thicker, a soft prickling of fur growing over his whole body. Short, gray fur covering his arms and legs, his chest and back, every inch of his flesh. He held up his hands and looked at them; his fingernails glinted sharply in the seeping moonlight and it wasn’t hard to imagine them as claws.

Sherlock cried out against the gag, sinking down further onto the floor, grabbing at his calves, trying to pull out invisible clumps of fur, raking at his own skin, leaving thin lines of stinging pain.

“There’s nothing I can do,” John said, voice deep with regret. “Oh, Sherlock...”

His voice was so convincing that Sherlock felt his cock starting to respond. The thought of losing control, of being utterly overwhelmed by a sinister transformation with his lover watching helplessly... He fought against the handcuffs, writhing on the floor, squeezing his eyes shut, thinking what his naked, slender body must look like to John. Soon the image gave way to his body covered in fur, his face turning feral, him viciously fighting against restraints but too overcome with pain and horror to turn on John.

Sherlock reached down with his cuffed hands and wrapped both hands around his cock, no longer caring about retaining any semblance of dignity. He felt John leaning over him, running his hands down his chest in soothing but almost-hesitant motions.

Gripping himself tighter, Sherlock howled against the gag as he imagined how beastly he must look. His eyes flickered open and he saw John looking down at him, looking positively concerned. It wasn’t exactly fear, but it was close enough that he could pretend it was, fear coming from the horrific transformation overtaking Sherlock’s body.

“Oh god, you poor thing,” John whispered, gripping his shoulders. “Sherlock...”

Climax overtook Sherlock like a tidal wave, powerful, overwhelming, and utterly unstoppable. John’s worried words echoed in his ears as he felt a complete loss of control, giving in to the wild urges, spilling himself all over his hands and his stomach and the carpet. When he was finally, utterly spent, he whimpered, curling up next to John, shaking from the intensity of it all. Thankfully, John said nothing, simply running his fingers through Sherlock’s hair, allowing him to bask uninterrupted in the glow of post-orgasmic bliss.


End file.
